


Lever de Soleil Cerise Mûre

by KillerBananas



Series: Crème de la Crème [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Air tight, Almost a Greek throwback to orgies, Analingus, Blasphemous, Boba Cat Who Ate The Canary Fett, Boba The Brat Fett, Boba's switch sub moment of fleeting glory, BrattyDom!Din???, Breeding, Can't hide this size kink here and who would want to anyway, Cathartic sexual smoking, Choking, Come play, Creedcest, Cultcest, Cultural traditions in a hella procreational community, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink if you squint, Deep Throating, Din Big Dick Djarin, Din is still a sour patch kid, Dom!Boba, Dom!Din, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Euphemistically colorful floral smut word vomit, Excessive use of cunt, Excessive use of vod/brother, F/M, FM/multi interactions, Facial, Foursome fertility ritual, Foursome – FMMM, Frottage, Geographical and temporal continuity is not my strong point, Herbal smoking, I definitely lost my track of tense in this, I don’t know how to make polite boundaries and I don’t think I want to: An Autobiography, I make shit up about the palace, I needed aftercare after writing this I hope that tells you enough, I'm liberal af about helmets, Ive even sexualized herbal smoking im sorry please be mindful of your health, Just an excuse to write a gang bang, Light toe sucking, Little excessive come play, Lube, M/M, MM/multi interactions, Mandhandled, Marriage kink? I think tf so, Mating Press, Mouthy Mandalorians, Multi, No Beta We Die Like Mandalorians, Not necessarily characteristic of all dom/sub relationships, OOC everyone because I’m not missing any opportunities, Oral Sex, Orgy, Orgy breeding pile, PWP/Porn with and without plot, Paz Gentle Hands Vizsla, Pollen Potion #9 but like a cigarette, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sexual drug use, Size Kink, Smut, Squirting, Switchier!Boba?????, Switchier!Paz Gentler!Paz?, Thumb suckery with eye contact because YOU KNOW, Unrealistic refractory periods because pollen smoking, all marauding notions of plot are still just pitiful vehicles for smut, beep beep motherfucker, blood kink if you squint, breath play, crack!fic, degradation/humiliation, fertility, fertility ritual, gang bang of Mandalorian Warriors, hair play, marriage kink, slight cucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerBananas/pseuds/KillerBananas
Summary: “I want to ask you something serious, sweet girl.”Turned into…“How does a girl like me pledge herself to someone as wonderful as you in your culture? Would that be weird or is that something we can have for ourselves?”Which lead to…"I'm sure we'd all enjoy a taste, little one." The tone from Boba is dark and voracious.and"I wish I could come down your throat, but every drop is supposed to be going in your tight little womb, mesh'la." Paz rasped as you licked his precome off your fingers.and“You’re so eager to get all three of us inside your stuffed snatch that I’m sure you’d do anything we needed to get off there together, right?” Din's grasp of your jaw is demanding and you can feel the rekindled yearning lighting up your skin in cerise and vermilion hues like a blushing rainbow as his insatiably avid partners watch closely.--Pure smut. Heed tags and enjoy :)
Relationships: Boba Fett/Reader, Din Djarin/Boba Fett, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla/Boba Fett, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla/Boba Fett/Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Paz Vizsla/Reader
Series: Crème de la Crème [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155629
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	1. Ripe Cherry Sunrise - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title translates to “Ripe Cherry Sunrise”. An alternative title is “Triple Banana Sundae”. Yes, it’s for exactly why you’re thinking it is.
> 
> Sorry in advance: a novella sized author note.
> 
> Some change in phase, we encounter riduur!Din with some straight bacchanal smut nonsense that my high ass was really inspired by. Just straight smutty fanservice filth. Figured we could explore the niche opportunities to squeeze out some Mandalorian fertility rituals if you will. I play incredibly hard and loose with this characterization of their culture because there’s only so much I mean to pull up to set the setting, though it’s a rich lore area, I’m less familiar with it and just skimming the wookieepedia. I’m hesitant to step on canon culture if I do something wrong, so listen closely that I’m saying I’m …uh being a little risky in depicting the depth of knowledge I have to play dangerously with. That’s why the tags will include something about slight!crack! [okok it’s just fucking pure!crack] fanservice or something. I also left Paz more intentionally vague besides some kink related aspects I hit on. Hopefully you can envision him as your face/body double of delight.
> 
> Just like the first series installment: I know I goofed with tenses throughout. There’s also some run-on sentences and flowery hoopla that may not be everyone’s favorite nonsense, but I wanted to post this in some wild attempt to give back to the fandom for giving us all some great stories to read. Constructive criticism is appreciated, random comments of elation or emojis to capture your feelings are also. Enjoy the filth, ya dirty animals, and please keep up the fabulous smut that permeates this fandom.
> 
> That’s it. That’s the warning. Oh, and all the descriptive NSFW tags : ) please let me know if I can tag this better or if my creative abuse of the tags hurts your usefulness of them too much. I aim to humor and explain, not clog or obscure.
> 
> For anyone who was upset that we didn’t get the full anal from the last installment, apologies. However, have some here to make up for the wait. I have a mini smut storm smoldering in a doc trying to form into a proper next installment that continues off the last of the first as I write this. My muse just got moved around and I’m desperately grasping for its shadow before the inspiration leaves me. And I think [hope] I’ve thoroughly paid in full with how long this turned out to be. Felt like one giant edging session writing it. Mercy, help me.
> 
> Final reminder: please heed the tags in case this is not your cup of tea.
> 
> ~Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I made no money from this filth and do not own the characters. Thank you to the lovely @mouthymandalorian whose handle helped inspire my tag of it. 
> 
> Italics = flashbacks, but also used as artistic emphasis like a hot mess everywhere because what is grammar. I never agreed to these rules anyway. Read my rhythm and cadence, less my perfect use of the English language, please.

> _Mhi solus tome,_
> 
> _Mhi solus dar'tome,_
> 
> _Mhi me'dinui an,_
> 
> _Mhi ba'juri verde._
> 
> We are one when together,
> 
> We are one when parted,
> 
> We share all,
> 
> We will raise warriors.

\----Mandalorian Wedding Vows from Wookieepedia

* * *

Mandalorian culture has always been something that’s fascinated you. It’s been another tangent to connect yourself with your life partner. You remembered when Din had proposed to you.

_It’s been nothing but a fervent relationship since you had started opening up to each other sexually. Two carnal beings just working to bring out the indulgent enjoyments that spread pleasure through your bodies like a heady wine, drunk on each other. Finding cathartic reward in working out the ways to draw comfort in your playful activities. His touch caresses every part of your body within his reach. You’re bent over his cot, legs spread diligently for your handsy bedmate. He’s all pressing need as he maneuvers you onto the bed, keeping you both joined by lifting you with his hands under your knees and bringing them to your chest. You face away from him, gaze covered to respect his Creed and he promptly drops your knees to spread across the width of his lap, and it makes you acutely aware of how delicious his muscular thighs look when you’ve been able to use your vision. Seated as he is on the bed, he is able to lie himself backwards, your pliant form still speared on his shaft. The long length of his body takes up the majority of the cot and your smaller form is caged by his, cupping you covetously._

_“Your cunt feels so damn good on me. Do you see what you do to me when you rile me up about breeding my good little girl’s womb?”_

_Din was like a starving energy, needing to push your feverish moments to the extreme, you could only respond to his fire with more of your own. You got here, in precisely this position, because you had started talking about what kinds of activities sounded fun to you both. Exploring each other’s desires was one of your favorite parts of your relationship. The Mandalorian was a very all-in kind of man. When he chose to follow through with something, he did it with all his effort. Doing anything less was a disservice to the beauty of finding one’s few freedoms in life, he thought. These were the moments that, when your life flashes before your eyes, you know you did everything that felt right to be true to your values. There was little point in living a life where you never paid respect to that kind of last liberty in existence._

_And at this moment, the overwhelming feeling that wouldn’t stop echoing in his mind was his need to claim every part of you he could. You’d both been doing this dance back and forth for the last year of finding so many things out about one another that he couldn’t remove the addicting thought of you from his mind. He valued you for the small kindnesses that he always found you doing. How well you cared for his foundling. He’d been able to balance his life of helping his son and getting through in the world by your side, because of your boundless need to help them both. He also thought about your need to please him. You gave yourself to him in ways that showed how much you were willing to trust him. Every interaction between you two sparked new growing connections that pulled you both closer together. Ever so slowly, the situations you both played out became more honest expressions of what you truly wanted from each other._

_And one of them was how much he really wanted to be able to build a family with you. You had both agreed that the idea of having a family was something you’d wanted, but only in the quiet moments of talking through idyllic futures where everything was covered in hazy rose hues of happiness. Talking about how much he wanted to worship your body as the gift you could give him would be so rewarding to the happiness that a larger clan would bring him. It was such a primal urge, inextricably immersed in a darker part of his passionate ego. He needed you to be his, to find every possible selfish solace in each other. He wanted to give as much as he took and make you feel just as treasured in return. The Mandalorian was obsessed, protective, and ardently enamored with you, and he intended to bind his soul to yours completely._

_“You remember what we talked about when I said I wanted to breed warriors with you?”_

_And you definitely did. He’d been thankful at the time that you couldn’t see the blush that had covered his own face at his admission. He had never told another soul so much as he had about his own desires as he’d done with you. He had morphed his warm body to press wholly along your own and whispered his hungry needs into your ear, unveiling secret wants into your reservoir of pleasures to pull from, as you told him the same._

_“I do, but why can’t I listen to you remind me, Sir?”_

_His arm came up, wrapping around your rib cage and alternating between playing with your breasts and gripping your throat. His mouth was on the side he pulled exposed for his assault of love-nipping-claiming teeth. He wanted you to revel in how vulnerable you could feel for him, imbalanced on your back, held up with his care, still dangerously impaled on him, incensed by the arousal his motions could build in your muscles, pleasure singing random twitches in your limbs._

_“I want to see you just like this, swollen with my child, cyar’ika. Hold you close and eat you like a forbidden fruit.”_

_He’d move you in the perfect position to pull long, slow strokes out of your cunt, feeling your friction making his own toes curl as he fucked into you with a lust-addled mind. Probing cock continuously pumping against the sensitive spot in your body to elongate each arousing thrust and push your full limits of oversensitivity. His hand would travel down just like it is now, pinching your clit until you rhythmically constrict in tight flutters around him._

_He was getting close, talking himself up like this, desperate to bear this feeling to you; desperate to never untether from the comfort he found in you._

_“You’d be so perfect, full of my load. Want to keep you like that for hours, just filling you up with my seed, keeping my cock in you so it doesn’t leak out. Just live in this warm little cunt to keep fucking my come into you. Breed you like a greedy incubator in heat, make your womb bulge with how much I pump i-into y-ou. Make you take me so deep and stretch your muscles for hours with multiple orgasms. Leave a pure mess between your thighs like you’ve been properly f-fucking bred.”_

_And it’s barely as he finishes his erotic confession that you’re both seeing stars behind your eyes with how strong your release hits you. He’s rutting up into you enough to smear his come along his shaft and over your labia. He holds you close as both of your spasms calm and pulls his hand to touch where you’re joined still. He needed to seize the moment while he had enough bravery, when it felt just right and he wanted you to feel as euphoric as he was still, encouraging more heady satisfaction from your body, drawing light traces with his finger tips on your skin._

_His mouth gently kissed along your jawline. His growl of a voice left him as softly as his vocal cords would allow._

_“I want to ask you something serious, sweet girl.”_

_His tone caught your attention and you brought your hand down to his chest to encourage him to continue, that you understood this wasn’t part of the normal act._

_“Talk to me, Din. What’s on your mind?”_

_Your hand ran up the strong column of his neck to thread through his thick mane of dark waves. You’d never seen his face in all this time, but you had asked him about some of his features. And you knew from the few times he’d cut it, his hair was a luxurious tone that fit him in all his indulgent beauty. He smiled into the kissing and met your mouth as you shared in an intimate exchange of breath, chasing each other’s lips in a greedy dash for understanding where the other was mentally in that moment. You wanted him to feel comfortable with anything he wanted to tell you, how you could help him. He had to fight against that little voice that stops people from living in the moment, avoiding the doubt like a nagging fly._

_“Let me take care of you in every way I can find, cyare. Please,” he pressed another kiss to you, pouring himself into the gesture. “I need to celebrate sharing that kind of miracle with you. Will you bind yourself to me? Become my wife? Bear our children?”_

_The Mandalorian did nothing half-assed. He did it with every single thing he meant on the line. Just as you’d always want to return that same fiery passion, you gave all of yourself back to him in your answer._

_“Please, Din, I would love to be yours. I can’t bear the thought of being without you in my life. I’d be honored to be your wife, to call you my riduur.”_

_You knew his soft spot for when you spoke in the small snippets of the Mando’a you recalled and you’d stored this one away for a rainy day. He nestled his face in closer to your neck, a small amount of wetness edging his lashes, matching yours under the blindfold. He cleared his throat before communicating again, attempting to speak through the heavy happiness settling in his chest, whispering praises and words of affection across your skin._

_A thought of curiosity pulled you from your airy reverie, but not doing anything to reduce the blush heating your face. A sense of belonging filled you when you thought about how you two might go about actually completing a tradition like this. You broke up the gentle kissing that had kept up to voice your thoughts._

_“How does a girl like me pledge herself to someone as wonderful as you in your culture? Would that be weird or is that something we can have for ourselves?”_

_You wanted to find a way to do something so sincere like that for him? It nudged around the carefully free-floating pieces of his heart in the afterglow of his brazen request for your hand in marriage. He’d made the right choice to ask you._

_“It depends on what you’d like to do. There are some modern ways or there are some older ways that we could do. Do you want me to tell you about both?”_

_You did, you needed to know how to make this important moment personal. What could honor such a request like his while still being uniquely communicative of your bond together? He explained that the modern Mandalorians often simply recited a few words in peace together and were considered wed. This was largely due to the fact that Mandalorians found little value in waiting for an audience to acknowledge a union when there were so few commonly together. They were rumored to be a dying culture and that was partially true. There was a lot to be said in trying to rebuild their numbers, accepting foundlings, encouraging any couples to have children and raise them in the community if possible. They valued family and numbers crucially._

_The older way was deeply intriguing to you. You could feel how he chose his words carefully in explaining the phenomenon that had managed to quietly survive in his culture. It was almost like a good-luck fertility ritual celebration. The partners would find unique ways to give great pleasure to each other, often inebriated on a plant that had been abundant on Mandalore, a strong aphrodisiac with additional, reproductive medicinal benefits. Sometimes in pairs and sometimes en masse. There were multiple ways to imbibe and it could be changed to suit the couple’s personality in how they chose to express themselves. He talked about an example that sent a pulse to his own softening member inside you and you made special note of it for later; you stumbled through some of the thoughts you’d have for yourself, what would help you celebrate tying yourself to this masterpiece of a human being._

_You both agreed to exchange vows in Mando’a, him explaining the verse to you line-by-line while wrapped around your spooned body like a Cheshire cat, unwilling to deplete his skin-on-skin contact with you. With the final repetition, you were able to remove your blindfold and look at Din in the dim lighting of the room. Your vision adjusted quickly and you let your eyes roam over his face with a glowing happiness that you were able to commit such a visage to your memory, to call him your husband. Each meeting of your lips further saturated the creeping wetness that spread down your cheeks as you let out small sobs of happiness. Trails of jubilant drops landed on his chest, his hands coming to comfort you in your open expression of elation._

_“You’re incredibly handsome, husband.”_

_A grin blinding enough to short-circuit your mind spreads across his face and you’re struck with how whole you feel, consistently bouncing back the joy he’s conveying and starting to giggle hopelessly into his chest, small chuckles leaving him at your sudden shyness. He pulled you away from avoiding his piercing gaze and spoke against your lips while holding your throat in a gentle demand for attention._

_“And you’re absolutely incorrigible, riduur, especially when you’re bratty and full of my load.”_

_His cock had never left your warmth the entirety of your exchanged vows and he'd felt your intentional clenching when you'd given your compliment._

_He maintained dominating eye-contact as he possessively kissed you, affectionately playful in how he bit your bottom lip, gaze hooding in the most striking pair of bedroom eyes you had ever witnessed. He looked roguishly handsome and full of mischief of his own as he flirted with you. He devoured his wife with adoration and worship, mind beyond the ability to communicate with words and desperate to show his love in ways he knew how._

* * *

The air is a dry kind of heat that sucks the moisture right out of your soul, along with your energy. So, you were exceedingly happy to find yourself under the sand in a more comfortable environment. You, Din, and Grogu had landed on the planet within a short distance of his friend's palace and you had been introduced to Boba, Fennec, and Paz. It was a quietly intimidating atmosphere with them all. Fennec and Grogu had served as easier talking partners than the three hulking beskar forms, but she had absconded with your little green child from the throne room to occupy themselves elsewhere.

You evaluated the body language between the men. The tallest of the three placed himself just behind Din's shoulder so he'd have to look down on your husband as he started talking in full Mando'a, often using his imposing form to nudge Din's shoulder forward in a teasing manner. It was amazing how as the two, then third Mandalorians talked, a very living cadence lit the atmosphere of the room. The language was calming in its unassuming beauty. Watching these warriors made you feel weak in the knees and standing in on the familiarity they let express in their body language almost made it seem like you were intruding on a private moment. As if detecting your withdrawal, Din's helmet turned in your direction. His hand extended to you invitingly.

"Come with us while we sit together. I want to introduce my _vod_ to my beautiful _riduur_. No reason to be shy now, sweet girl. We're all going to get very close tonight."

You felt a blush pull up from your chest at his implication and nodded at him demurely, a smile tugging on your lips as you let Din guide you down a winding hallway to a huge bedroom. There was a four-person table, a bed, and a hallway to another room, which you assumed was the bathroom. Everyone started seating themselves around the table and you found yourself perched right on your husband's beskar-clad thigh, the wispy ends of your dress swishing near your ankles. You'd chosen something pretty but simple for the day.

Din placed his gloveless hand on your thigh, touching you directly through the layered slit that ran up the hip, warm and welcome to you both, grounding. He used his other hand to remove his disengaged helmet alongside the other two at the table. You'd talked through this moment before, that they'd all agreed to removing their helmets. The intimacy of the gesture wasn't lost on you. And you tried to control the shyness that plagued you as all three men suddenly focused on you, but your gaze almost naturally fell down to escape to the table, where you noticed several items.

One was a tray with some older looking metal instruments, papers, and an antique turquoise jar. The other was a bottle with an amber liquid and several cups. Boba's scarred hands gently served up the amber liquid while Paz's took up mantle of rolling the content of the turquoise jar into three small cigarettes. A minty smell hit your nose and then a drink was sitting in front of you on the table. You lifted and tossed the drink back, gaze still watching as Paz used his hands in a manner so careful of the delicate paper. It was surprising to see someone so well-built for battle be so gentle with their hands, not unlike your husband. While he'd often allow you to perform tasks better-suited for your smaller fingers, he'd still do plenty to showcase a similar ability himself, especially when Grogu would get one of his little scrapes from being too hasty. It seemed both men knew how to use their bodies for whatever duty they saw fit, be it tendering or tearing.

You smiled as Din encouraged you to pull slowly from the nearly dwarfed joint between Paz's fingers, caring not to hold it in a way to hurt you with its heat or quarrelsome angling. In fact, his fingertips kiss your lips like a kind lover as he presses it. You averted your eyes down again when the contact became too much. 

All three of their chests slightly puffed up at your already submissive behavior, minds turning towards the reason they'd gotten together. Before you knew it, the conversation had brought all of you over to the bed, continuing to pass one of the lit cigarettes around to inhale.

Din’s nerves were on fire. The idea of a fertility ritual... impregnating his wife with his and his Creed brothers' seed, pulls from a darkly erotic place in himself that he doesn’t try to evaluate too closely.

When a _riduur_ binds herself, she’s agreeing to give a part of herself to her clan, the Creed particularly kind to honoring strong romantic love in an effort to promote procreational unions. It's considered giving your body as a gift to the couple to participate in this kind of ritual sharing. Saying I trust your companionship and respect your capabilities as a warrior to contend with your seed in my wife's ovulating womb, to bring the strongest warriors possible into the clan was a level of closeness not everyone could appreciate, but it had passed by without qualm when you'd worked out the details together as a group. Happened fluidly enough that allowed you all time to focus on honest desires and directions to take the night's activities. You would start out with a slow work up from your husband, having him christen your womb first out of being respected as your _riduur_.

The herb they’d all agreed to smoke that evening sent growling pangs of arousal through their bodies, the men becoming gradually more and more erect as the drug and situation set in. Your muscles felt incredibly relaxed and pliant as you began to slouch in your position on the bed. The throbbing, wet ache between your legs pulsed with your heart beat. You were all dressed in such light clothing, dim illumination, and the men remained helmetless.

It didn’t escape your notice that Din was comfortable around his brothers without his helmet. He has realized that his life should be led with how he could best use the Creed to support his clan. It seemed that Boba and Paz had managed to somehow sneak into Din’s clan after working together so closely over the years since they’d met in the case of Boba and from being in the covert on Nevarro with Paz. It was an enviable comradery, seeing the three large men interact as you all four passed the rolled herb around. Boba’s strong features would start to contort in mischievous goading with Din and Din would have to find a way to try to dryly jab at his brother’s impervious ego just to bring down the size of his head.

This was often exacerbated by Paz trying to nag Din back as well ("Are you sure it was that big, _vod_? I imagine you are losing your memory and overestimating your hunting prowess in your old age."), happy to tease the humor from his sharp features and give Boba another opening to say something. It was a different atmosphere to see him interact with someone he found comfortable, relatable, another flash of the lean loth-cat in the sunbeam.

The smoke curls with each person's inhale of the drug, one of the Mandalorians tapping off the ash into a strangely flowered cup set to the side. The next moment you blink in a delayed fashion, finding somehow all three men are lying down with you, already entirely shirtless. Warm, calloused hands begin roaming your body, impossible to tell whose hands are who's at first, senses imbued with the feeling of being held by a multi-limbed deity, a vulnerable sacrifice to these hungry souls' pleasure.

Your husband makes his presence known as his feverishly hot chest rumbles under your back while he groans into your ear, hand threading through your hair to tug it back with only a hint of his usual roughness. The moment is almost painfully tender as your eyes widen with his behavior. He's pulled you to lay on him just enough for his long reach to start tugging your dress from your shoulders by plucking the small closures along the front with his deft hand. Din unwraps his wife like a delicate gift before his two starving brothers' consuming gaze.

"My gorgeous wife, you're going to honor our union tonight by giving us all your womb for our seed to fill. I want to get you to feel comfortable with us here. Will you let me show off your body and how receptive you are when I touch you? Will you share this intimacy with us, this celebration of unity and creation?"

Din's nose nudges you along your jawline to your ear. Boba and Paz's vision stays on you closely as you respond with making eye contact with each of them and nodding. "Yes, please. I want this. I want to take you both with my husband."

Din's hand tugs your chin to his, meeting his plush lips to yours in a fiery contact that leaves your chest heaving for breath. He reveals your breasts to Paz and Boba, sat on either side of you, both cataloguing the reveal of you inch-by-inch. Their hands move across your skin and trail blazing paths to see how your nipples tighten, Boba pinching the one within reach of him. You let out a pained moan at his harshness and he only just backs off his strength a little until Din's hand smacks his out of the way with a small scowl on his features.

"Hey. She's sore because of her cycle. It goes right to her breasts every time. Don't worry, _cyar'ika_. We'll take such good care of you. You'll only be able to focus on how full you feel of us."

Yet Boba did not miss how your thighs pressed together in a _pitiful_ attempt at friction from his action.

Din uses both of his hands to pull the dress further down to your hips and he lifts you so Paz can gently pull it the rest of the way. Paz takes care in how he drapes it over the back of the table chair, respecting your property. It touches you momentarily before you find Din angling himself in position to push your hips up with his, erection pressing into your ass beneath his black undershorts, and spreading your legs to their furthest open position possible. He can't stop from grinding his body up into yours, excited to make his _vod_ drool over you, over tasting you, seeing them taste you.

He drags his hand to your folds, expecting to find your underwear but being surprised to find just bare skin. He grinds up again, erection throbbing painfully at your endorsing behavior of sharing you. He drags his thick fingers over your wet apex and lets out a broken sound from his throat at the molten honey he encounters. He bites on your ear lobe a bit harshly and brings his hand to your mouth, encouraging you to taste yourself. You hum in approval and lick his fingers clean.

"I'm sure we'd all enjoy a taste, little one."

The tone from Boba is dark and voracious.

Din agrees, then takes your hand in his to bring it back down to your blushed cunt. He has you slide two fingers deeply inside, gently coaxing you to thrust them in several times to coat them. Small whimpers leave your throat in squirming pleasure. Everyone's eyes in the room greedily follow your actions, burning into you.

Boba is the first to lick your extended index finger, quick to suckle and find out how you taste. He bites the tip, eye contact unrelenting as he backs off the digit, almost going for the second before Paz uses little effort to move his greedy _vod_ from his own proffered taste. Paz's actions are just as concentrated, but more hypnotically rapturous than Boba's. He grasps your hand, and by doing so, Din's as well, and carefully lavishes the skin from tip to knuckle and even over the excess that had spilled onto your husband's hand. You didn't miss the flexing of his cock against your backside as he enjoyed the attention.

As both men had finished the small delicacy offered to them, you began to notice the straining bulges of their undershorts. It had you clenching in want, finding the small wet spots either Mandalorian had made, the tip of Paz's on the verge of peeking right out of the waistband.

"Such a good girl, staying like this, open for them to look at you. Letting them taste you."

Your husband's praises went to your head and you let him maneuver your body so that you were now upright and straddling his shoulders.

"Now, I want to see you show appreciation to my _vod_ , _riduur_. They're here to help us celebrate, breed this cunt. Be a good host while I get my own taste."

And if Boba's behavior had felt greedy just sucking your slick off your fingers, it was nothing compared to how full force Din automatically started at devouring your pussy. He might have gotten a little impatient, having to watch them both taste you first, but he knew he could sate himself on you just like this. His gaze traveled upward from between your thighs. He could see the swells of your heaving chest and the creeping touches of his Creed brothers' hands as they began to familiarize themselves with your body.

A growl left his mouth, reverberating like praying gong vibrations on your clit, as he saw how roughly Boba grabbed your entire breast. The gushing of warmth from your cunt at the combined actions is the only thing stopping him from grabbing his brother somewhere tender to make him mind. The conversations before now had put some sexual ideas and boundaries on the table, but it would be interesting to see how good his brothers were at staying in line. And while he'd focused on Boba's grabbing, he now saw what was happening with Paz.

The large man's hips were still partially covered with his underwear, but only about halfway. The soft black fabric was pressed under his balls, revealing everything there up, including his wife's hand that was entirely dwarfed by Paz's length, moving up steadily along the shaft, guided by the man's own hand. A softer sound left Din's mouth at the sight, still rumbling enough to stimulate you.

You took the small of your thumb into your mouth, tasting Paz's precome and smiling at him.

"I wish I could come down your throat, but every drop is supposed to be going in your tight little womb, _mesh'la_."

Your burning flush didn't escape his notice, but was interrupted by Boba sealing his hot mouth around your nipple, biting just on the right side of painful enough to question how much of it was truly pleasurable. Happy to have your attention back on him, Boba pulled your other free hand to his own cloth-covered cock and pressed it to his length harshly.

"Touch me, pet."

You nodded diligently, _disarmingly_. Your husband's eyes almost slammed shut in overwhelming arousal seeing you with a cock in each hand. And you could feel his grin as he caught how indelicately you played with Boba's balls, earning a pained moan from the scarred man. He knew if he teased you just right, you'd be good to him. And of course, Boba loved skirting the thin line between the two interwoven worlds: pain and pleasure.

Din's hips unconsciously lifted upward in a wayward attempt for friction and found none. His watchful brothers both smirked through their own heated countenances at the urgency of his motions. It was a rare sight to see Din so hungry and desperate. Lucky for him, Paz was kind enough to help.

Paz's hot grip tugged his shorts down just enough to grasp Din's aching member tightly. Another noise you rarely ever heard left your husband's mouth as he was interrupted from his connection to you, burying his face in the soft space where your thigh met your mound. Hips arching up into Paz's grip. You looked between your legs at his needy expression to over your shoulder where he was held.

"Look at your husband's cock." He gave a short pump along the shaft. "He's leaking to be inside your cunt, so flushed right to his head. Won't you do him the honor of taking him and his first load tonight, little one?"

You nodded down at your husband and small pleas left your lips for him. Paz's grip was replaced with yours, guiding as you backed your hips down to his. The stretch of him as you gradually pressed yourself flush against him made you groan in ecstasy. Feeling both his brothers watch you slowly as his cock split you apart had your toes curling. Seated fully inside of you, your hands returned to both Paz and Boba's members, stroking languidly enough to please and tempt without pushing.

" _Mesh'la_ , fuck," Din's rasp caressed your skin as he fucked himself up into your wet heat, sheathed in gossamers of euphoric intoxication that made his head a bit light. More Mando'a left him in rough prayers meant to chase the feeling of being inside you. The words nipped at your consciousness and had your sight bound to your aching lover.

"Please, Din, I want you to fill me up. I need every drop inside. Touch my hip, sweetheart. No more implant just like we agreed. I want you to breed me, _riduur_."

His grip was bruising as he felt himself set a rough pace inside you, thumb reaching for your clit to drag you over the cliff with him, embracing the closeness of this moment and the sheer desperation that bled through his movements with a sanguine passion that struck like white-hot pleasure to his marrow. Your walls worked his member in a bold bid to milk him for every drop of that precious liquid, muscles tense with a cementing bliss. He’d gripped your throat at the right angle to resolutely direct your attention into his unwavering gaze, biting his lip harshly as his other hand pressed down on your perfectly flat hip in a motion intense enough to leave pomegranate blotches. The connection you share with his shaft so deep in your cunt sends back some of that white-hot pleasure-pain as you feel your husband massaging the head of himself hard and steady along the outside of your cervix. Attempting to blend that part of his _soul_ with you in a frantic ache to coalesce in intimacy, pull you into his heart in a way that he’s never felt before, feel accomplished at _impregnating his fertile wife’s needy little cunt_.

“You wrap around my cock so perfectly, like you were made for me, _cyare_.”

His hand goes from your neck to your scalp, tone breathy, as he none-to-gently crashes his forehead to yours, eyes eclipsed by his own lids as if trying to be able to focus on what he’s trying to say, but losing himself to the moment of steaming dark satisfaction permeating his consciousness. You felt so full of your husband and soaked up his unabashed happiness you gazed as you kept your sight open in sheer awe-struck glory of his contented countenance. An airy sigh of pure ecstasy escaping amidst the tattered breaths puffing from your mouth.

Boba couldn't complain about seeing his happy _vod_ breed his beautiful _riduur's_ cunt, but he could try to find ways to keep himself occupied, mind hungry for mischief. It was magnetizing for his Creed brothers, watching Din's pulsing cock flex rope after rope of seed into your tight channel, balls drawing up painfully taut from the larger than usual load the herb encouraged his body to make. A sizeable drip escaped your joining and Boba carefully caught it before it went far, finding just the right angle to press it back around Din's cock, causing you both to squirm from his swiping touch dragging overstimulating pleasure to both your bodies. Boba has always liked to be the focus of the room, the moment, just as Din has here. He cleans the rest off his fingers in his mouth, feral grin lascivious as he teasingly scolds his _vod_.

"Better keep your load sealed tight in your bitch's cunt, Din, or you'll never breed her right."

A whine is pulling from your overheated body, molten hot from the arousal starting to unfurl in your every pore from that damn smoke. Din had let out a lazy growl at Boba's comment, but almost kicked the man off him when he himself had gotten too overwhelmed by the intrusion of Boba’s fingers in his wife's snatch. He'd find a way to pay him back.

Paz is unexpectedly the quietest of the three with you, but he's physically quite close to you at almost all points, a sturdy presence supporting you as your shaking limbs sought equilibrium against him. It's like being casually stuck between three Titans' bodies playing with your delicately small one as you’re carefully moved off your husband’s lap. You could only keep yourself just aware enough to guide yourself where you needed to be, but your suitors simply volleyed their turns keeping you in position and moving you as they needed to get off with your body, first, by Paz taking his time slowly working his thick head into your cream-coated cunt with you laying chest-to-chest on him, arms tucked beneath his shoulders as you relaxed in his hold.

His arms danced between gripping your cheeks, pressing your face to his chest, stealing scorching pecks along your forehead, to guiding your knees far enough apart to lose some of your ability to hold your weight up, dropping you abruptly along the last inch of him. Your legs are spread almost uncomfortably across his hips and he's only giving you just enough time to adjust to his size until he's rocking back in a painfully slow rhythm that makes sweat and rouge start to eclipse your skin, as if beaconing your overt submission, with how strenuously pleasureful the tugging on your tight walls becomes.

The come from your husband helps lubricate Paz's fat cock and the sounds of your lusciously lewd fucking are obscene to your ears, face hiding in Paz's chest as your arousal is so blatantly apparent and on display for the men around you that it's got you completely delirious. And the delirium hits all three of the virile warriors nearly drooling at seeing your willing, fertile cunt gush in pleasure to take all their spend into you. Paz feels himself starting to find exactly the best rhythm to fuck your pussy while hearing his brother's fist start to stroke his own tool, anxious to tear into your body like a plush fruit.

And he sees exactly what Boba has planned before you squeak at the warm, wet tongue that is probing your back entrance, and Paz gladly holds the globes of your cheeks apart to make it easier for Boba to lick into you deeply, exposing you fully to him. The sensations throw you into a constricting flutter around Paz's cock that has him following you in one, two, three, _four_ thrusts where he tugs your hips down flush with his, thumping into your cervix as his seed spatters inside you, gushing like blistering magma deep in your channel and making your breathing hitch nearly harsh enough to falter your consciousness at its intensity. 

"Such a responsive wife you have, Din, you lucky man. She's gripping me so tight. How are you going to fit all three of us in here tonight, tiny mother?"

The idea permeates the afterglow of your orgasm and you know you won't be able to rest until you get all of them in you at once. The idea of being dangerously fucked open by these hard cocks in unison too debauched to resist, addicted to being stuffed in every way you can.


	2. Ripe Cherry Sunrise - Part 2

You take a collective moment to catch your breathing as you tried to keep your mind focused, attention fighting with Boba’s continued strokes to your tight hole, including the deviating swipe his tongue took down to tease the exact connecting point where Paz’s cock impaled your pussy, huffing in gruff laughter when the two of you tense up at the wet jab. Paz uses the advantage of his long legs to press against Boba’s midsection and bear the brunt of his brother’s magnetic focused arousal, Boba’s weight bunching up Paz’s dense thigh muscles and jostling your already imbalanced legs. The motions caused his hips to give a tender prod into your kneaded inner organs, overstimulation sharpening the elicited friction, ripping a broken cry you couldn’t contain if you tried, lungs not able to muster the muscle to do anything more than try to breathe correctly in your placid haze.

“You have to learn to wait your turn, Fett. So jealous at not getting attention, it must be hard being so needy like that. Do you want me to tell you how good she feels? Because I’m not done stroking her yet. I have to help this tight hole stretch just a little bit before she tries to get off.”

You would have thought his girthy member would have reduced in size somewhat after he’d busted his load, but it seemed that another one of the side effects of the plant was showing: their bodies seemed to need much less rest between climaxes. A bonelessness was still cloyingly attached to your limbs like a spreading parasite to your muscle tension, deciding well and good for your mind that you really would be better _just staying still like a good girl_ and taking everything he could do to help you relax your over-contracted pelvic muscles. Paz also happened to know Boba well enough that he was sure teasing his brother like this would rile him up so much that he’d be that much more possessed when he finally burrows into your abused hole, incitement often a harsh line in Boba’s personality, and he was really just doing you the favor of making sure you would be comfortable. Of course, it was just that, and not that he’s overcome with the addictive sting of the friction your cunt is providing his long, lazy, massaging strokes as he glides through him and his brother’s combined seed in your cream-sloshed womb, tightening something hotly impassioned in his chest.

“She feels like a warm piece of heaven to tuck my cock into, so tight and slick like silk. You’ll have to be good to her Boba, when you try to shove your brutish prick in here like I know you want to.”

Paz’s hands recircuit your body in soothing, ghosting, caressing touches that slowly encourage your squeezing muscles to relax around his lazy strokes.

“Why don’t you ask her what she wants? Part of tonight is to bring our brother’s _riduur_ pleasure. You both think I’m too rough with her, but I’ve seen how hard this wanton little thing grinds her legs together when I do it. So, what do you say? How should I fuck your blushed cunt?”

Paz calms his movement in waiting to hear from you, content to simply nudge small, gentle jabs of playful strokes at your softening heat.

“Talk to us, _sweet girl_. What do you want? Your pleasure is our pleasure.” Din’s reassurance anchors the confidence in your voice and brightens your focus on explaining what you’re considering.

“I really want to feel like I’m _supported_ by you guys. Like, sorry, this is a little hard to verbalize, but supported or held, how it feels good when you have me a caged in like I can’t move very easily, and it makes me feel a bit helpless? Like I really just have to take whatever you want to give me?” You felt like you were digging an embarrassing, confused grave as the aroused words left your mouth in a slurry of reckless honesty. “It makes me feel like I handle the harder fucking a bit easier and it lets me enjoy how intense it feels, which is what I want to do more of if we could?”

“So how far do you want us to go with being rough? I feel like I could tear your body with how your cunt gripped me a few moments ago.”

You took another second to think and responded, “I think maybe you can start it slow, ramp it up and I’ll tell you when it’s too much? Whatever feels natural without being too drastic of an intensity?”

All three Mandalorians felt a wave of arousal hit their groins that invoked a keening want, one pining for the domination of impregnating your womb, another graced with a deep respect that you would trust them this way, and a last starving for the opportunity to just survive in the moment in feeding off how much they could push your boundaries and how badly you both could benefit when it led to your inevitable combustion of clanging pain and bright hot pleasure.

Boba is commanding your attention with his lavish gestures of pure unbridled lust, grip strong enough to ache on some areas he grabs. Your breasts are a little sore from both your hormones and his painfully hard manhandling. He decides to place his body behind yours while you lay blissed out on Paz's massive form. He lifts your hips just enough that Paz slips out from your used hole and he replaces him. He's got every intention to stay right here, basking in your receiving nature and taking his time to savor the moment, pressed balls’ deep inside you.

Paz uses his one large hand to hold both of your wrists behind your back as Boba shoves his hips into you hard enough that they both have to stop your squirming away from him while Paz leans forward to check in with you.

“Is this how you meant, you like trusting us with how we have you restrained like this, hands behind you and imbalanced, so close to too much or too little that it makes your walls flutter?”

You nod with a confirming hum, barely mumbling an agreement, and finish the motion with an affectionate nuzzle into his warm body.

Din chimes in to up the fervor with a simple inquiry, knowing your preferences and limits intimately. “Do you want to show my _vod_ how you like to please their deepest desires? How that makes you feel?”

When you resettle and acclimate to the blinding pressure-pain of him, you clench on Boba’s cock to encourage him to move a little more to quell this overwhelming strain. You peer over your shoulder to speak your answer _at_ Boba, making good on the opening Din's questioning nature naturally seems to present you with, allowing you as it has them, an easy pathway to connect.

“I want him to feel like he can bruise the fruit, but not bleed the flesh. Bite, but don’t break the skin. Show me what he thinks I need to do to make sure I put all this rich seed in my cunt to use.”

Of course, Boba begins running his mouth as soon as your words sink in, since he obviously he needs to too. _Sink in_ , that is. The urge to prickle your sexual experience with dominating playfulness is more plain in this light your husband's cultured to shine. It fans the flame that stokes another moment of fervid voracity in Boba that gleams as a garnet afterimage of his feral grin as if he could indeed let your sickly sweet juices gush down his chin from a forbidden, sanguine bite.

"Look at your _riduur_ ," his eye-contact mimics how you'd focused on him to answer Din's question, by choosing to nearly eyefuck you with his stare as he addresses Din as well, "full of two Mandalorian's sticky seed, _vod_. Being such a good come receptacle for us." He reaches his hands around to cradle your lower stomach in an unsuspectingly gentle manner, contrasting drastically from his violent pressure seconds ago. "I should stay here to help this poor abused hole keep this fucking gift inside. You're going to give the clan so many good offspring, _mesh'la_. Your body was meant to be impregnated by our sperm. Isn't that right, little one?"

You nod as he starts moving in your overused, overstimulated pussy. Being held here as your husband strokes his tantalizing member, seeing you get used by his _vods_ , it was blending pervasively with the arousing effects of the herb they had all smoked. He promised himself he'd never forget seeing your wrecked expression and hearing the noises leaving you as he enjoyed himself.

"Look at how much you please your husband."

Boba finds your gaze on Din's stroking and it urges him to overwhelm your focus in the strongest way possible.

"See how much he likes watching his wife's cunt get filled by his brothers' seed? Show him how good we are to you, how we honor your union tonight. How much it thrills you to feel so useful being stuffed with every last drop we can bury in you. I’m sure you’re so desperate you’d take it in any hole we’d put it, let us bleed our pleasure from your pretty pliant pussy or ram that tight little asshole until you’re begging so hard, you’re sobbing for my permission to come."

He paired the filth pouring out of his mouth with his resurgence of gluttonous aggression and a drastic change in posture enough to crush your body between the two of them, mounting your body downward into Paz’s large form. Paz thoughtlessly rutted along your clit to try to alleviate the feverous need to come emanating from his very bloodstream, reddening his skin with the thrush of desire to his member.

Boba's thumping into you hard enough that it jostles you in a strong demanding cadence, sharpening and dictating the rhythm belong to his hips for you both as he grips the bed on either of Paz’s sides and juts himself in an eager pistoning motion, achieving exactly the right harmony between your pleasures that he wrings out with a ravenous hunger to achieve something so symphonious. So well-timed are the orgasms that they domino in an elegant fashion like a vulgar accompaniment dedicated to hedonism. Boba spurts his load just as the first ripple of your walls start constricting, seed causing a pressure to exert in your pelvis at taking so much come. This catalyzes the heavy smothering way you grind your mound down to Paz’s writhing rod that causes him to add even more crushing stability to how Boba has you mounted and rhythmically ooze out an orgasm that almost brings tears to his eyes with its sharp overwhelmingness at coming so soon again.

You seriously considered how fucking vulnerable the positioning made you feel, ready to burst and glued to two partners with sticky honey, almost feeling an uncomfortable sense of panic start up.

Halting the feeling wholeheartedly, Din is much closer to your face now, checking on your well-being, as if he knows exactly when to reach into your swirling haze. He's shifted your head to rest at the juncture of his neck, tender in his care of your sore body now free of the claiming pressure of the other two Mandalorians. Paz allows his shoulder to run flush along Din’s and be close to you as he cools down his overworked member. He still wanted to be able to hold up the promise of helping you get all three of them at once and craved the after-moment of skin-contact without having to verbalize it in order to recharge. Boba rests barely a foot from Din’s other side, in no more composed a state than Paz.

"Hey, _cyar'ika_. Are you with me?"

You connect your gaze with Din and bask in the half-lidded leisure he views you in, aching member dripping sporadic falling drops from the tip, but still focused on finding you mentally. It was always these little moments that reminded you of how caring of a man you married, so considerate of your headspace that it let you acutely feel those lusciously heating waves of his compassion. 

“Yeah, I’m here. Just a touch spacey from all these orgasms to be honest.”

A grin curled along his face handsomely. “Glad to hear it. You know you glow right now, full of all that come?”

His gentle teasing comforts you in a familiarity that makes you mirror his smile and stretch languorously along the strong, sturdy line of his body, knee resting just under his balls as you felt him start to pull up a crisp, cool sheet to start to calm down your nerves, enveloping environment soothing to your brain overworking the sensory input.

“All this praise and still a troublemaker no less. That's not very nice, little one.”

You pressed a bit harder with your knee just to tease his current level of arousal to show more explicitly, but before you can try to coax anything else out of him, you find his masculine hands, roughened through a rigorous dedication to living, holding the second joint to your parting lips. He’s exhaling his pull of the wispy, mint smoke as you drag from the potent burning plant and see how the curls obfuscate and shadow his entrancing face. It made you feel so incredibly lucky to be able to see something so rapturously, openly beautiful in your lifetime. It almost made you forget to exhale the drag as you started to cough from the misfiring of your brain.

Din’s hand is now free of the smoke, passed to the next Mandalorian in bed to pull on, and his fingers caress a soothing rasp along your skin as he tries to encourage your normal breathing.

“When I thought about stealing your breath away, I didn’t mean it like that.”

A giggle left you once you felt stable enough to experience it. He meandered his touch around your relaxed form as all four of you passed the herb around until it was gone, extinguished in the flowery pot again. Din had mentioned that some traditions would have the couple plant a flower in dirt mixed with its ashes to keep as a living reminder of their union and dedication to each other, an overall pretty intimate keepsake spiritually speaking. Time progression gets a little fuzzy as the afterglow of the drug sets in and has your body following urges to begin teasing your husband again.

A mischievous playful affection suffuses Din with the cockiness to begin showing off how well he knows how to make you feel good in front of the other two Mandalorians, like he wants to blossom a bewitching flower, as if to imploringly claim _see, I told you_.

“You’re so eager to get all three of us inside your stuffed snatch that I’m sure you’d do anything we needed to get off there together, right?”

His grasp of your jaw is demanding and you can feel the rekindled yearning lighting up your skin in cerise and vermilion hues like a blushing rainbow as his insatiably avid partners watch closely.

“Yes, _Riduur_. I want to be so full we can’t figure out where the next person begins. Please, I can take whatever you need to give me.”

His thumb slipped into your mouth like the most effortless of habits, allowing yourself to be moved as he manhandled you to the corner of the wide bed. And by pulled, the Mandalorian’s standards dictated he needed to full Neanderthal-lizard-brain wrest your being in a disorienting yank from under your limbs to shove you into just the perfect angle for him to replace his thumb with his cock as he pressed you down hard enough to suffocate with his depth.

“Let me help you with the plan, sweet girl. I’m going to fuck your throat until you’ve got me just sensitive enough, followed by Paz taking his turn to get there too. In the meantime, you’re going to let Boba gorge himself come drunk on your creamed pussy and we’ll see who can keep your focus the longest, make your delirious body writhe in this dirty breeding den like you’ve completely forgotten how to act. That should help you prepare for all three of us, _right_?”

He reached down to seize your breast harsher than even Boba had dared earlier and nodded for the man in reference to begin touching your lower half while he thrust his thick member through your salivating mouth and down as smotheringly far as he could manage, heavy jewels between his thighs resting hotly against your face as it hued rose.

At the same time as Din made his best vie for dominating your attention, blunt nails began to run down the back of your widely lifted legs. While one hand followed through past the motion towards your aching apex, Boba’s sultry nature encouraged him to send the other back up the opposite leg and extend your calf unmooringly high along his chest and nip at the skin carnally. He ended the trail of nips by engulfing your toes with his voraciously articulate mouth.

As the breath-stealing strokes began to increase in frequency and further float your head through an aphrodisiacal haze sans oxygen, Paz nudges his cock into your hand as he spits on it to ease your grip a little. He admires how well you manage to keep your rhythm on him as he sees your body succumb to Din and Boba’s ministrations. He feels how harshly you grasp at his hard length when Boba takes his teasing mouth down to your mound and actually starts to put on the show he wants, your other hand indecisive in its choice to either fist the sheets for mercy or press the back of his head harder to make him give you more precious friction. He takes his time in rendering licks around your pussy that give just enough stimulation to start to make your muscles twitch, but not enough to actually come like your body is sending you every signal to perilously do. It's only just the side of tolerably cruel.

As Din finds himself a touch too close from the intoxicatingly cramped space of your throat, he makes sure he drags a long, wet stripe of drool from your mouth with him and lets it splatter right across your forehead as he pulls out, almost making you go cross-eyed. He moved for Paz to take his place with no protest, eager to see his spouse get used by his Creed brother’s member. He knew Paz was the longest of the three of them and he was curious to see if you’d both be able to work it down like you can with him. Maybe he’d even be a little proud of you if you did. Given that he didn’t think anyone would last once they all got inside you together, he wanted to find exactly the right level of high to push everyone towards to try milk the opportunity for all its possibilities.

Paz takes care to rub the line of leftover drool Din had painted you with and used his fingers to gently brush it from near your eyes, but smear it lewdly across your forehead in rebalance.

“Would you like it if I fucked the breath right out of you, little one? Do you want to try to swallow all of me down so I can get ready to come in your narrow quim with my brothers?”

You nod into his careful cradling of your head and he begins the endearingly laborious journey to get him down so his hips can rob the breath from your lungs.

Din takes a brilliantly strategized opportunity to grab Boba by the back of his neck and whisper an order, to the man sating himself in _his_ wife's cunt, with a disarmingly nonchalant tone, that belies the sheer magnitude of understanding the Mandalorian holds for finding the best way to needle into his intended targets, and Boba is pointedly in his sights.

"Please my goddamn wife and learn to find a way to breathe while you're sucking down your fill of her, you greedy pervert."

And then he's using precisely angled pressure at his neck to degradingly shove the man's face in your seed-soaked apex, knowing well how to push his buttons. He reacted predictably, which meant dropping his hands from your legs to the bed to counterbalance the onslaught of pressure, but what neither man expects is the immediate response as your body decides to automatically crush him between your thighs. But Din would never miss the chance to convey his churlish happiness at your actions, especially since his brother has yet to attempt to leave the embrace.

"Such a good slut to just need to wrap your thighs around my _vod's_ head like it's second nature to take your pleasure from him. I do hope you feel like we're appreciating you giving us this chance to ruin your cunt all together." He makes no move to acknowledge Boba's physical existence like his command is written in stone as he finishes his thought. "And that maybe the more time he spends stuck in your intoxicating warmth, the more he'll be likely to learn his fucking place."

The tone in his voice pulled an agreeing chuckle from Paz, now slipped in enough to get himself about halfway down your throat. "Learning from a perfectly spoiled cunt would be an ironic remedy." And you're not surprised at the intellectual humor that flows from the unassuming man, but you are motivated to try to navigate your lust enough to lay on the faux indignity of the humor just to hear Paz or Din comment on your _spoiled cunt_.

A garbled _hey_ barely splits past your full mouth and a bratty pout flits over and stains your features a transparent shade. "You've been good so far, little one, but don't think my broody brother here will hesitate to set you straight when you know how much he seeks your obedience in getting bred."

He continues, but your mind can't seem to go forward, unable to properly process such a potent threat.

Din and Paz's words are hard to register as they continue, but you do suddenly notice, quite keenly since he was so closely ground to your labia, Boba's reaction to the domineering treatment. Little moans are vibrating your petals as his raw baritone transforms the noises into exhaled ecstasy. It finally dawns on you that there is a piece just as submissive as you within the scarred man and they were all so trusting enough to cultivate this precious showing of his desires for you to enjoy.

The moment of vulnerability is fleeting and all the more invaluable because of it. Before you can blink again, _or perhaps your eyes were just glued to a starving wretch between your thighs_ , he's back to his normal indignancy. He threateningly nips at your sensitive and delicate petals in recourse for the entrapment, however welcome it may have been (he had internally balked at the _audacity_ of the automaticity). Once free with your predictive unwinding from his pernicious behavior, he shot a scathing glare at Din.

…who knew the precise way to beguile his brother into another disarming moment.

"Don't be so quick tempered, Fett. Let me apologize by having you help me start stretching her pussy for us."

Boba doesn't miss the glint in Din's gaze, but jumps in with brazen foolhardy energy that is ingrained into his very personality as he springs up from the bed, ready, only for Din to use his standing position to assert an unbalancing pressure on his surging shoulders to stick him right back down to where he's going to find out he belongs in this scenario. He gets to be at the very bottom of the breeding pile.

Boba finds himself astride with Din's toned thighs pinning him down, knocking their throbbing cocks together too precisely to be incidental clumsiness. More like colliding trees gnashing in densely reverberating thumps in their deathfall to the far beneath ground. It's jarring in both sound and intensity, both which go right to Boba's nuts that are so frustratingly taut, he thinks the smart-mouths he's engaging with could almost make him spurt with just the right combination of teasing. He's not sure when he let this all go to his head so much, but he was leaking harder than he'd ever be willing to admit.

While he knows Boba is still taking stock of his own mind, and Din knows exactly where his transparent little _vod_ is mentally because he's never realized how Din knows all the places he reddens when he gets so heated, he focuses back on how Paz has managed to get about three quarters of himself down your throat before he has to pause again. Even then, he can see the beginning of the bulge his cock makes in your delicate throat. He's loath to disrupt the progress, but Paz understands. You, however, feel cheated of your opportunity and the pout starts to come back unchecked.

So Din takes nearly no need to think about how the right response is to slowly slather his cock up, hastily grab Boba's in the indelicate clutch, spread the wetness around until it's everywhere and he can overstimulate both their heads together in one fist while using the other to knot into the hair on your little disobedient head and force your body to follow his unerring guidance in laying chest-to-chest with Boba.

You've come multiple times, but you were about to get three cocks in your needy cunt. You were about to get fucking impregnated with loads as massive as these three virile men, in all their masculine energy, lighting up your arousal like a supernova of euphoria, could produce. You were ready for a marathon of ceremony, to let these _warriors_ conquer your body and your womb. Having these men take care of you and treat you so roughly had you set to implode from the carnal arousal bruising your stuffed sex.

"You know, _Riduur_ , in a different time, women like you would be presented to a group of the strongest Mandalorians to be passed around like a treasure, stuffing loads into all of your holes to pay homage to your union to the tribe. Almost like serving some starving wolves some very succulent meat."

His darkly possessive voice is dramatically amplified for both you and Boba as Din orchestrates the two of you into submissive harmony. He is claustrophobically upon your skin, sealing his burning flesh to your back, gaze searing into the uncharacteristically quieted Boba. He's managed to shove Fett's hands between his thighs and yours, which are plastered to Fett's, eliminating the ability for either of you to do anything but hold on to each other for the ride.

"I'll be generous since you're _my_ wife. You can touch him anywhere you want, but until all three of us are in you, neither is moving from that position. Be happy you at least get to choose. Fett just gets to come from the bottom of the breeding pile because he can't mind."

You decide to be kind and put yourself out there for Boba, hoping to give him another chance to behave if you could get the words right. Settling your arms comfortably on the bed about his shoulders in a way you could reasonably maintain the angle of your back and still make your request, you cleared your voice.

"Din, please, can I use my mouth on him? I'm sure you'd find it pleasing if I could make him squirm from his spot down here, right? It'd probably drive him a little crazy. Does he deserve that, Sir?"

A pattern emerges when Din catches how your vision doesn't leave Fett, just like earlier when he was so entrenched in your womb as if his own heat had struck him. Din was feeling encouragingly cocky that he could adequately control the fire between two sparking outlets even with you gushing wet honey-cream between like a lake in a lightning storm. That's what warriors are for right? He was starting to lose his own focus until Paz added on to sway him.

"Come on, brother. You saw when she first touched him, how she had to find out exactly how much handsy grabbing she could get away with, like she wants to catch fire in a burning building just to feel the intensity. They're both fit to burst in chemistry. Let's see if she can unravel him. Is that what you think you can do, tiny temptress?"

You can only manage enough muster to breathe out an airy _yes, please_. As you and Boba had both soaked up their exchange, you didn't dare move a muscle until Din gave you the go, desiring to show your obedience. Cognizant of the theoretical bravery your request had required, Boba inclines his jaw nearly imperceptibly in invitation. He does it at the perfectly calculated moment. It's just as Din acquiesces to your proposal and makes the decision to marble a staple amaranthine hickey into your neck like a warning. Ever coordinated, he also uses this moment to guide both of them into your slick channel almost without a hitch. Not that he wanted it to be a perfectly smooth transition. You'd both decided to get a little mouthy with him. It's the least he could do.

As soon as Din sinks his scraping teeth into your skin and their combined cocks into your cunt, you're latching onto Boba in a desperation that tight-rope walks your own previous demand of how he should treat you, nearly suckling pricks of cherried dew from his atoms. Your choices are reassured as best when you hear that same sound keening from his mouth as when he'd been buried face first in your snatch. Din almost feeds off the effusive showing, only giving your channel enough time to barely start to adjust to the biggest intrusion you've experienced.

Din's mouth laments leaving the mark he's painting into you.

"Gonna work this hole open for us, sweet girl. Still need to fit Paz's dick in here too. Nothing's going to stop us from fucking a baby in you tonight. Just need to make a little room, right? You want him to feel welcome in your pussy, don't you? Don't worry, I'll help you."

And he looks over Boba meticulously as he poses his next question so he can continue.

"You hold her knees so she doesn't try to close them on us to keep us out. It'll take her a while to get herself under control with how oversensitive she is. Will you do that for me, Boba? She won't mind if you bruise her some, but you have to stay still until Paz gets all the way in here."

You let out a whine that is clearly a begging plea, though you know not for what. Your husband knew everybody's goddamn buttons to push until they went mad with pleasure, torn between being dominatingly cruel or orchestrally manipulative. And Boba's agreement just rustles another huffing sigh, already reaching a blissful point in this reproductive seance to your strung-out body, haunted by the raging embers your husband continued to stoke expertly.

And with you both in place, he is immediately engulfed in Paz's heat behind him as the man's thick hands grip and lift Din's muscled hips in a way that thieves a slick friction from the rub along his plush cheeks on the boost. Din lets him get away with it since it's where he needs to be anyway and the new downward angle both makes room for Paz and puts him perfectly in position to stretch your straining but accommodating walls.

Boba and you are both making great efforts to try to follow directions, but things begin to become much more difficult when Paz started to work his still spit-slick dick into the mix. Your husband's hand sneaks through the heated skin and pressing bodies to play with your clit, further helping and simultaneously hurting your ability to acclimate.

Paz's hips meet your thriving trio of sin like he's starting to feel late to the party and it suddenly becomes a writhing mess of hardnesses seeking friction in your overworked womb. Paz's hands alternate between grabbing whoever’s hips that are in front of him to try to ground himself in the torrential rhythm of your humming bodies.

His pride is tangible in his voice.

"It looks like you did it, little one. We're all finally inside your pretty pink cunt. Guess I'll have to work on coming down your throat later."

A whisper in your ear.

"I promise that as soon as you've rested up, I'm going to start working your ass open with my girthy prick like a pleading heathen. You'll be so happy when I come back there too."

Din's painfully aware of the rising the tension in your forcefully stretched cunt and uses it to wreck you on their cocks. He grasped your throat like a drowning man trying to claw to dry land while his other went to sneak to your clit, determined.

"Who owns this little cunt?"

"You, Sir." The words could barely escape his hold.

"Who's breeding this fucking womb?"

"My gorgeous husband and his fucking Clan." You cheeked out in a hot slur of inebriating euphoria. His fingers brutally pinched your clitoris, sensitive and swollen.

A cascading effect of orgasms triggered each of your releases. First your cunt tightened to almost a vice grip on their tools, then your husband fell off the cliff at how painfully tight you were on their pricks and that he was spilling into your womb again, incensed at the overwhelming friction his _vods_ were causing his own stiff rod. Boba blew his thick cream right after Din, conscious of how he'd made the man lose control and listening to the depraved banter.

But it was Paz's orgasm that threw you into another round of coming so quickly. He's pressed so deep and it seems as if every additional drop from the three are making you so full a foreign sensation starts to build somewhere intangible in your body that begins a drumming onslaught of pulsing fury that bleeds all energy from your muscles and makes you gush harder than any other orgasm before it. Of course, Din's hand didn't let up on the pace of your sensitive nub until everyone stopped pulsing.

"Fuck, _mesh'la_ , did you squirt for us because you're so full?"

His surprised praises sing a courtship to a vulnerable part of your that's precariously exposed in this debauched light. He smashes through that door of your exposure to wrap your inner light in a blanket of security and reaffirmation that is dangerous in its ravishing thoroughness and perceivable purity.

"Din, I just couldn't stop it. I've never felt so fucking _good_ and goddamn bred."

No one verbalizes acknowledgement of the few tears of passion that muse from your lashes, but it gives them all another ambience of stunning moonshine to call to that inner need for connection, and the beam is a cooling balm on their souls. Din swiped his fingers dry before gently lifting your chin back to him at a moderately uncomfortable angle.

"That's exactly how you're meant to feel like when you've got three dicks in here. Told you you'd be able to fit us. You're so kind, keeping all of our seed in your body, wife."

And of course, Din can't resist the chance to flex in this novel position, but he doesn't get entirely away with it when he feels the sudden burning _smack_ of Paz's wide-open palm on his ass, which of course has him instinctually thrusting forward to try to escape it. …Which pulls a combination of sounds from all of you that you think might be the secret to lost tombs of ancient pleasure until you feel another _pressing_ need.

"I think I have to pee."

And then all three lackadaisical titans are chuckling like rolling thunder, or in Din's case, really laughing, at your predicament. You're not supposed to move yet, keeping their loads as deep as possible for the time being. It's not easy, but you all manage.

* * *

You’re stuck in a bonelessness that weighs your eyelids down as if peacefully stitched closed. There’s a surrounding protectiveness that ensconces you in a glow that hums a soothing tone vibrating in your bones. An energy picks up your mood and desire to find something fun to do. The solid form of your husband is glued to your back in a way that can only be called clinging, alleviating some need to protect your small form. Your eyelids start to part to figure out the best next course of action, adrenaline seeping into your veins at the feeling of sleeping amongst wolves.

And perhaps all your orgasms from tonight really had addled your good mind, but you felt the most daring of lambs as you formulated some mischief.

Din wakes in the afterimages of kitten nips dappling along his torso as he takes into stock the feelings of his wife’s supple, soft skin pulling darts of rippling pleasure to his groin. His hand pulls you to his chest to press a kiss into your hair, enjoying the intimate touch of the moment. You’re a bit more awake than he is and take the time to duck under his arm and continue biting along the side of his hip where his muscles eventually bunch in just the most perfect ass you’ve ever seen.

You make a point to bite enough to bruise a hickey the size of a flower on the exact spot that Paz had smacked earlier in the night. It draws a crumbling sleep-wrought grunt from his chest and stirs his bedmates. Din’s large hand comes to rest on your backside that is perfectly within his reach from the position.

“Does she not sleep? Or is she usually this wound up, brother? Do you not take care of your wife often enough to wear her out? What kind of husband are you? We’ve all seen she can go for these drainingly long sessions of breeding with three men. You must be wasting her potential.”

He doesn't answer the bait, at first, instead he tries to rile you up. “Do you want to play with us again?”

You nodded in confirmation and grappled around your husband some more. “Yes, but I wanna start right here between your legs. Please?” You run your slight finger nails along the back of his thighs, slowly trawling pleasure from his muscles.

“You see, Paz. I can’t help that she can’t get enough of me. Ask her, well, after she gets her mouth off me. She’s busy right now.”

You run your warm tongue over his balls from this angle slung over his hips, feeling his erection start to thump against your thighs, smearing precome on your lap. He steels up quickly and is starting to prod hard enough to glide between your thighs and conveniently light up your clit. You make the move to lick up further and slowly lave your tongue over his tight muscle. Paz’s large hand pulls your hair out of the way to both reangle you and give him a better view of your face and your mouth, just enjoying seeing you do something with such open passion, like you’d do just about anything for Din.

Din’s hand is squeezing as much of your own cheek as he can to wiggle your hips to please his cock while you choose to ask for more now that you’ve maybe buttered up your husband to humor you.

“Can I get one of you in each of my holes, please?”

“She’s so polite. How could you ever tell her no, Din?”

“She’s mad she didn’t get to take you all the way down her throat. I know you. Come here.”

You’re back to straddling your husband for the second time tonight and he’s already driving his prick into you until it’s sharp. He pulls you down until your sore breasts start to rub on his chest. He’s maneuvered you to be lined up with Paz’s cock while he’s resting his own body against Paz’s inner thigh to keep you all together. Paz is greedier than he had been earlier in the night and shoves into your gagging throat roughly, drawing tears to your eyes while Din attended to massaging your breasts like a kneading comfort.

Boba found the lube on the side table again and enjoyed how everyone’s attention stilled while he sunk into your ass to make sure you could get comfortable. His head breached the tight muscle with a _pop_ of relief that made you writhe. Part of his girthy member sunk in smoothly with the lube and he waits for your sign to move the rest of the way in, which he has to, or else Din’s tentatively strong grip on his balls might get a little too intense. In Din’s defense, once he knew his wife was adjusted, he’d be happy to see Boba treat her exactly how she craved, burned for.

Din’s lips attach to your other unmarked shoulder and start working in a matching one.

“You love showing how cock hungry you are, sweet girl?”

As Boba finishes sliding all the way into you, he accepts your hands that Din pushes back to hold your cheeks open for him, giving him the perfect excuse to cross grab your arms to steal some leverage.

Then all three Mandalorians start to outdo each other with speed and tempo until they're just fucking into your holes with the renewed singular focus in pistoning like a well-oiled machine. Boba and Din alternate tugging and prodding into your pelvis while Paz has been thrusting your face down in a furious rhythm all his chaotic own. He'd wanted to see you choke on his big load and how you struggled to handle it. The longer he kept pace and watched your face blatantly display your fucked-out bliss, the closer he got to gushing.

Another jolt closer as he made you focus your eyes up at him while he spoke.

"You have to swallow every drop, little one, please. Won't you be obedient for us while we take you flying, falling with us?"

Your almost-imobile nod sets off a chain reaction where Paz decides he's close enough he should make sure Din is just as much. He yanked Din's head forward a bit by his throat, cutting off his breathing just long enough to see how picturesquely the reddening undertone blends with his caramel skin. Din's thrusts become cripplingly inconsistent and brutally sloppy as he races to flood his wife's pussy.

Boba had the perfect angle of vision allowing him to see what was happening amongst you all. He'd been enjoying every stroke he took from you, but when he saw how well Paz took care of Din, he knew he couldn't stop from making sure his presence was tattooed in your memory for how well he could drive you up the wall to come. He found the perfect path to swipe furiously at your clit while going from long to short strokes, maddeningly slamming into your ass. The feverish action he's taking out on your clit has you coming in seconds, but he makes no move to change his pace as the overstimulation into your aftershocks urge your chest to crumple into a fetal position with how _too-much_ it sincerely is.

As you come, Paz smashes his hips so your lips kiss the curls at his base, eyes straining to make contact as you feel him use your throat. His barely imperceptible pause is rapidly followed by him throbbing through a gushing orgasm that he starts down your throat and begins pulling out part way through, his come threatening to escape anywhere it can while he spurts two ropes along your eager face. You'd swallowed as much as you could, but your cough matches the timing of your choked husband's keening release once he sees Paz's come drip down your face. He's still in the larger man's grip and can't help the noises he makes, which just happens to be music to everyone's ears, accompanying his delirious thrusts and searing orgasm. His thumb bruises into your hip, once again reminding himself that you're entirely unprotected from his seed without your implant as he plants it _deep_ inside.

Boba is the last to unload his sack in your backdoor. He presses his hips as hard as he had earlier in your snatch, driving it as far as he could to sate that inner heat permeating his skin and further overstimulate your body to crumple towards the safe support of your wrecked husband. He comes just as you flex your muscles to encourage him, a pitiful attempt though it may seem with his girth stretching you so much, it still helps at precisely the right time to amplify his climax. He grunts into it and adds to the symphonic melody of pure hedonistic energy in the room.

Your mind is surprisingly quiet as you settle, full with both Boba and Din still. You watch Din relaxing against Paz's inner thigh still as he takes visual stock of your face and well-being.

"You missed a spot."

Of course he's teasing you about Paz's seed on your face. That's definitely characteristic of your husband. What's surprising is when he leans forward to lick it off your face and drags your neck down to kiss it into your mouth for you. He pulls your face back while gripping your jaw to keep it open.

"He told you to swallow every drop, didn't he? Show him."

The cream in your mouth is perfectly on display as you catch Paz's line of sight. He nods and you close your mouth and shortly reopen to show him, just like Din demanded. Your muscles can't help the weaker clenching that the whole ordeal bleeds from your sore, exhausted body. It earns you a chuckle and half-hearted smack on the ass.

"That's better, _mesh'la_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am tempted, so sorely tempted, to do a morning after of this fic to do a follow-up. I am working on the original ending scene of the first chapter + maybe something extra (because I can’t write short shit anymore??I guess?), but I have no idea which one I’ll honestly finish first. If anyone were to be interested in a morning after (e.g., reader gets whatever super fun time she asked for – wild card of wtf that is but I’m open to suggestions, especially including all four of them again.) Would… anyone like to read that kind of filth and make suggestions and I’ll try my best??? No promises though because I’m a horribly inconsistent individual that is always terrified she won’t actually finish something???
> 
> FYI: If you care to know, I’m trying to update my progress via the series description. Figured this might be the only manageable option.
> 
> ???  
> :)
> 
> Cyare: beloved, loved one  
> Cyar’ika: darling, sweetheart  
> Riduur: partner, spouse, husband/wife  
> Vod: brother/sister
> 
> \- http://mandoa.org/
> 
> I promise I'll reread this later to find all my typos and tragedies.


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